


like royalty

by estir



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, SyaoSakuWeek 2017, extended descriptions of cunnilingus, mild clothes swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 23:09:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estir/pseuds/estir
Summary: In every incarnation, she's a princess.





	like royalty

In the static darkness of their shared apartment, Syaoran toes off his dark loafers without a sound. A finger subconsciously loosens the knot of his tie at his throat as he crosses the threshold in his socks. His footfalls are muffled against the wooden floor, and he lethargically moves to their bedroom. His dress shirt is untucked before he reaches the door. Nimble fingers pull the round buttons free as he looses a small sigh, thankful for the promise of relaxing into a good night’s sleep.

He expects to find her deep asleep. It’s late into the warm summer night, and he hasn’t been home for about a week. The cicadas and crickets chirp in the moonlight, their quiet buzzes carrying in through the open window. The night is a picturesque summer soliloquy, and Syaoran can’t help but fall into the familiarity it inspires in him.

Today is his twenty-seventh birthday, he realizes suddenly. He flew home a day early to spend the last few hours in the arms of his beloved. In one year, he has earned this one night with her, at least. The door closes behind him with a soft click. He leaves his shirt and socks near the hamper with a shrug, keeping as quiet as he can…

With a start, he realizes that the soft summer buzzing is oscillating evenly. It’s lasting a little too long to be natural, now that he thinks about it.

His gaze travels to the bed, to the sheets strewn about and the figure traced in pale moonlight. Shoulder-length strands of red hair contrast against the light fabric of her pillow. She’s turned on her side, toward the wall, and her shoulders are shaking so slightly. Syaoran recognizes one of his button-ups adorning her shoulders, the collar turned up and pressing softly into her flushed neck and face. One of her hands grabs at her lips, desperately pressing them closed. Her other arm curves against her side, wrist and hand disappearing under the tail of the shit at her hips.

Her breath hitches loudly against the buzzing, and the abruptness of it breaks Syaoran from his daze. His face falls into a heated flush, but he moves to the bedside without hesitation.

“Sakura,” he whispers, and he moves a slow hand on her raised shoulder, pressing a small kiss to her sweat-soaked hairline. She startles despite the softness of it all, her bright green eyes opening wide to stare at him at the corners. Her hand falls away from her gaping mouth, but the soft buzzing does not falter.

“Hey,” Syaoran says when he has her attention, “Sorry to interrupt. I caught an earlier flight home, and my phone’s been dead since lunch.” 

She catches a moan in her throat by clenching her teeth, but the smile she gives him lives in the sparkle of her eye contact, “I hate… how often that thing dies.”

Syaoran laughs at the familiar sentiment, the smile on his face wide enough to hurt. His hand clutches softly at her shoulder, his thumb starting to rub circles in her joint in time with her breaths. The smile she gives is more subdued, laden with anticipation. She slowly licks her lips and deliberately traces his face, his torso, his hips, with her gaze.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous,” she whispers.

Syaoran falls to the edge of the bed without another word. He leans over Sakura, propping his elbow into the sheets near the ends of her flowing hair. Their lips are drawn together with an incredible ease. He kisses her forcefully, and the touch lights the familiar flames in the pit of his stomach. They pull apart after only a moment to draw fast, gasping breaths between barely-parted lips. A whine escapes Sakura, and Syaoran can’t help but grip at the tendons that tense in her shoulder. Her free hand cards through the messy strands of his short hair. He can’t help but lean into the touch with a deep moan.

“Having you here,” she whispers into him, “is so much better.”

His lips curl into a smile, and he nudges their noses together, “Then allow me this, my Princess.”

She starts when Syaoran abruptly pulls away, trailing gentle fingertips against the arm at her side as he rises from the bed. Her stare etches into the rising pulse beneath his skin. His hands pull at the hem of his undershirt, slowly teasing the thin fabric away from his trunk. Her breath catches at the slow sway of his hips, the way his skin pulls against his lithe muscles. Higher the hem rises until he can flick his pert nipples with his thumbs. He makes a small show of circling the dark skin, of swaying his hips just so.

“S-Syao--” Sakura chokes. He shucks the shirt off completely at the sound, and he meets her soul-boring gaze steadily. His hands edge at his slacks in a daze, toying with the fastening as her hips buck off the bed and her eyes shut tightly. Her mouth is gaping but her groan is quiet. She comes down with heaving breaths, and her eyes immediately alight on the tent at his groin.

His breaths stutter under her attention. He knows he shouldn’t, but he blushes hotly as he unfastens and steps out of his slacks, then his pants, fluidly. Sakura’s soft whine draws his gaze back to her before he can do much else.

She’s smiling softly, gently, with enough care and adoration to force a smile of his own. He hesitates a moment to think, and then his eyes search through the few pieces of clothing scattered on the floor.

“May I borrow this for the night?” he asks, pointing to one of her pleated skirts with a smirk.

Sakura hums thoughtfully, breathlessly, “That one… makes your thighs look… so good…”

Her confession pulls a laugh unbidden from Syaoran’s chest as he walks into the skirt, “Hmm, I wonder if such good-looking thighs could be put to good use…”

Her laughter, always so vibrant and colorful, fades to another hitched exhale, “I can think of… a few ways.”

Sakura’s body is overcome with violent shudders when Syaoran settles himself on the bed. He resumes kissing her as if never interrupted, his hands resting gently against her jaw. One knee pulls over Sakura’s leg, and his thigh gently takes purchase against her groin. He presses gently against Sakura’s hand as the soft cotton folds of her skirt dance along her hips. The gasp against his lips is all the warning he gets before her hand is violently pulled away. Syaoran has barely the presence of mind to notice that the buzzing stops, that something small thunks against the floor, that her hand fists in the sheets by her waist.

He trails harsh kisses away from her mouth, to the corners and to her jawline and to her ear. He takes his time ravishing the expanse of skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Sakura’s breaths melt into groans at the prolonged attention, and her fingers entangle in his hair with slight impatience, scratching gently at his scalp before pressing his head lower, lower, please keep going…

He leaves one last kiss on her sternum before he pulls away. The slick that she’s left on his thigh cools in the air of the late summer night. He’s smiling down at her when he shuffles back on his knees, finally resting between her trembling legs. One of his hands traces soothing lines down the underside of her thigh, from knee to hip and back. His other hand settles on the lower cleft of her hip bone, gently adding pressure as he leans his head down.

Sakura grabs at his hair anew when their eyes meet. His smile pulls a bashful one out of her, despite the excited glimmer in her eyes. Wordlessly, he moves his hand from her lower stomach and laces his fingers with hers. She squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back.

He lowers his head to kiss her folds, to nudge his lips and nose into the spaces between her lips and her thighs. He places a chaste kiss at the tip of her, harshly pressing her pulsing skin back. She struggles on a cry, her thighs twitching violently in his hold. Humid air pulls into his lungs in a violent gasp when he pulls back. The fingers on her thigh clench and tremble, and his hips rut gently into the firm mattress beneath him.

He kisses her again, pushing aside her folds with his tongue. The tip gently explores underneath until her legs clench violently around him. He levels her hood with broad, slow sweeps, pulling away to kiss her throbbing folds every few licks. Sakura’s breaths are horribly uneven, interrupted by gasps and cries and throaty moans. His tongue dances in circles around her. He teases at the wrinkled skin under her hood. He sucks his gums against the small space between her clit and the apex of her vulva. He’s still moving his hips against the sheets.

He’s high off how much he loves her.

She violently arches off the bed with a scream as her every muscle pulls taught. Syaoran hears his heartbeat in his ears as he watches her plunge into a sea of complete and overwhelming pleasure. He has to remember to breathe through it, even when Sakura can’t.

She collapses back onto the bed as suddenly as she left it, every inch of her skin left red and blotchy from her exertion. Her chest heaves with forlorn breaths. He watches with rapt attention as her face relaxes into another contented smile.

“Thank you,” she whispers breathlessly as he moves to her side. She falls into his chest heavily, curling up against him despite their shared sweat and heat. His chin falls atop her head effortlessly as their arms encircle each other.

“And welcome home, my one and only,” she adds after regaining a few more breaths.

He giggles at the afterthought, “It’s good to be home, my love.”


End file.
